Play time is my time
by AmazingMeg
Summary: When the clueless child of Sherlock Holmes spikes Moriarty's interest, how will she cope with being the subject of their 'game? Will she be choose the side of the Angels, or the demons. Rated M for smut, Johnlock Moriarty x oc
1. Chapter 1

I slid my silver key marked '221B' into the lock and clicked the door open, skipping and singing up the stairs along to the music blasting into my ears from my headphones. My pink mini skirt swung loosely around my legs as I hopped up the steps, throwing the door open and wandering into my room, the darkness inside as well as my sunglasses prevented me from seeing who was inside. Continuing to sing along to the music I skipped lightly to my room, swinging my bag on the bed and throwing my glasses beside them.

Entering the main room while humming happily I paused as I observed. John stood by the door, staring at me in astonishment while sherlock sat opposite a stranger I'd never seen before. The tension in the room was so strong I almost felt embarrassed for my sudden musical outburst. "Who is this?" I asked rudely, staring at the well dressed male.

"Leaving." Sherlock answered simply, not taking his eyes off the man. His hands pressed together in a thoughtful manner.

We all stayed silent, my father and this man refusing to break eye contact while uncle John and me shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Eventually, my dad turned to me with disgrace in his eyes, "Will you go get changed?! What is that supposed to be? Because it certainly is not clothes. Clothes cover the body properly, providing warmth. How am I supposed to work with a daughter who doesn't wear clothes?" Sherlock eyed up my pink crop top and mini skirt in disgrace, clearly disgusted with the amount of skin exposed. I bit my lip, not daring to argue back in front of a stranger, who was now also looking in my direction.

I repeated the question, "Who is this?" In a much blunter tone, growing frustrated with everyone's silence.

"Leaving." My dad once again repeated. The man smiled, slowly rising from his chair and straightening his tie - staring directly at me the entire time. "Jim Moriarty." The man said in a thick Irish drawl, walking smoothly until he was stood staring down at me. I couldn't help but feel exposed under his glare. He lifted my hand to his lips, pressing them to my pale knuckles for a second while keeping eye contact the whole time. "You've done a good job at keeping this one hidden, Sherlock." He said, turning back to face my father. "But not quite good enough." And with that he flashed a manic grin and slowly left the room, clicking the door shut behind him.

"That was intense.." I said after a while, breaking the dreadful silence which had fallen upon us. However no one spoke. John stood, confused and worried expressions shown on his face while Sherlock sat expressionless. "He was cute." I shrugged, wandering into my room to get changed.

At that, the two sprung to life, mumbling about how I need to avoid him. I ignored them, shutting the door behind me and throwing off the tight yet revealing clothing and pulling something more appropriate on.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock's POV

Alex walked into the room wearing a rather tight black dress that, in my opinion, was too much for going to 'work' as she claimed. Giving her the benefit of the doubt due to my work needing priority over my daughter, I allowed her out and dove back into the case I was working on.

A knock at the door eventually caught my attention as I turned in surprise to see a well dressed man, clearly an office worker, stood at the door with a smile clear on his face. Rolling my eyes like a small child, I bounced to my feet and walked towards him, grabbing my jacket and signalling for John to do the same. "Mycroft, I presume. What could he possibly want from me now?" I asked in a bored tone. The man smiled simply once more and stood aside to allow me to step past him. "Right this way Mr Holmes, Dr Watson." His voice was equally as bored as he followed us down the stairs of 221B and opened the door to the slick black limo parked at the kerb for us to enter.

After stepping in and driving into the London traffic, I turned and realised I wasn't here for Mycroft, I was face to face with Jim Moriarty.

"You should really keep a better eye on your child, Sherlock." He spoke, not dragging his eyes away from the window exposing the thick London traffic.

"What are you talking about, she's at work." I replied, glancing quickly at John who sat between us, looking terrified yet confused.

Turning to me, his eyebrows furrowed and his lip curled in disgust and disappointment he spoke again. "You don't seriously believe that?!"

A long pause dragged endlessly on before I spoke again. "No. I presume that's where we're headed?"

"Good, very good."

"Why the sudden interest in my child? I presume she's young, female and that's all you care about."

"For someone so smart you're so ordinary. Think, Sherlock. Why would I be interested in YOUR child."

"You want something from her. Judging by your history Id say she offers something that could be of interest to you, a game perhaps."

"She has so much potential, yet you're killing it. I want it to blossom and grow."

Neither of us spoke for some time, I knew he was right. The silence dragged on until the car pulled up to the side of a large house with colourful lights flashing and rave music blaring out loudly. I turned to it, then looked back at Moriarty. "She's at a house party? They're dangerous for a young girl."

"Better fetch her, then." He said with a psychopathic grin on his face.

Alex's POV

"God you're hot!" I heard Tommy yell over the deafening music, hands on my waist and torso pressed to mine. I laughed slightly, our eight month anniversary was proving to be good. Leaning forward, he squished his lips to mine sloppily and tugged at my hair, the spare hand cupping my arse. Kissing him back and tugging on his lip i wrapped my arms around his neck, listening to the extremely loud music deafen me as I sank into the moment, enjoying being ordinary. I was fond of Tommy, I didn't have any emotional attachment to him and definitely no romantic feelings, I was simply trying to appear normal. And it was working, I enjoyed having him around. He was entertaining.

I couldn't enjoy the moment for long as strong hands grabbed my shoulder and yanked me to the side. "Hey what the fuck are you-" I began, before realising the owner of those hands was my dad. We stared at each other for a moment, embarrassment filling me under his terrifying eyes. Tommy stepped forward to intervene, but Sherlock pulled a gun on him. "Dad!" I yelped, causing him to look back at me. Without a word he grabbed my arm once more in a death grip and dragged me though the sea of young teens dancing and enjoying themselves, leaving a terrified Tommy stood amongst them.

John's POV

"What the fuck!" I heard Alex yell as I saw the two walk from the door to the car, Sherlock gripping her arm. Great. They were making a scene.

"What do you mean? You lied and disobeyed me, I believe my reaction was quite appropriate!" Sherlock said, probably about to get himself punched.

"Appropriate?!" Alex spat in disgust. "You almost shot someone!"

"He was all over you! His lips were on your face, that's not good!"

"Dad, that's what teenagers do! Not that you would know."

"What, sell themselves out?" I cringed at Sherlock's remark, knowing he must be livid to be making jabs like that.

"No, make out with their boyfriends!" She yelled back.

"Don't you love little family spats." I heard Moriarty whisper in my ear, a hint of pleasure in his voice.

"Boyfriend?" Sherlock suddenly sounded timid, ashamed of his little knowledge on his own daughter. I was surprised he hadn't read it off her, however he had never cared much for Alex.

"Yeah, eight months."

There was a pause before Sherlock stepped over to me and opened the door, turning back to her and demanding she got in.

"No. I won't. I'll make my own way home." She said aggressively, before turning and walking back to the house. Sherlock stood helplessly before me, stepping into the car without a word and slamming the door.

Alex's POV

I found Tommy stood by the door and, without waiting for him to speak, grabbed his shirt and dragged him round the side of the house. I was desperate to prove I was not a child, that I could do what I wanted. Pressing me into the wall Tommy kissed me hard, his hands moving everywhere. I heard him moan as I tugged on a chunk of his hair and his mouth moved from my lips to my neck, tugging desperately at a chunk of my skin. Rough hands began to drag my skirt up, but I pushed them down - fearing I wasn't ready.

"Wha-?" He slurred, looking me in the eyes.

"Sorry, I'm just not ready." I said apologetically. He smiled maliciously, "ive waited too long." He said before whistling loudly. Two of his friends emerged from the back of the house, laughing and jeering.

Fear's ice cold grasp clamped itself around my mouth and held my limbs still, preventing me from running as the three males pulled at my hair and began attempting to remove my dress. I squirmed desperately away from them, however Tommy pressed his harm to my throat, holding me still. "Frigid slut." He spat, slapping me hard across the face.

The pain activated something deep inside me. Something I hadn't realised was there. I swung my arm around, elbowing Tommy in the face and knocking him back. One of the other males -Callum, I believe- swung his bear fist in my direction, however I stepped nimbly out the way and wrapped my hands around his neck, swinging him round into the third male who I think was called Anthony. The two fell, but jumped back to their feet angrily. I felt a shove and felt my bare arm graze against the wall as Tommy slammed himself into me, causing me to yelp out. "Bitch!" He yelled as I lifted my legs and donkey kicked him off me.

I stuck my hand in my boot and felt the cool metal of my gun, yanking it out and swinging the butt of it into Callum's face, causing a loud cracking noise and blood to splurt all over the wall. I heard a scramble and turned to see Tommy hop to his feet with a knife in his hands. Anthony was no longer anywhere around, clearly having fled at the first sign of violence. Tommy took a few jabs and swings at me, reaching out to grab my arm in an attempt to hold me still. Shaking him off, I dodged his desperate attacks until he caught my arm and bent it painfully behind my back. I screamed loudly at the pain he was causing to my arm. "Scream, bitch. You Fucking whore!" He spat in my ear through gritted teeth. Kicking my leg back I made contact with his genitals and heard him yelp pathetically as he released my arm. I wasted no time in turning on him, gun in hand as I pulled the trigger.

I heard a loud crack

I heard a yelp

And then everything was still.

Callum lay unconscious on the floor, his companion next to him, his lifeless body soaked in blood which was also all over my clothes. "Fuck." I whispered, shocked at what I had just done. I tucked the gun back into my boot before pelting off into the dark, tears streaming down my face.


	3. Chapter 3

My heels thudded up the stairs of 221B as my body begged me to rest. I could no longer see through the tears which streamed down my face. The door swung open and I fell into the room, slamming it shut behind me I dropped to the floor holding the resemblance of a rag doll as I did so. The tears flowed as my sobs grew louder and my breathing panicked. "Oh god!" I wailed, pressing the palms of my hands to my soaked eyes and drawing in thick breathes, the same way a person dying of suffocation would. I felt as if that were happening to me.

"Alex?!" John yelled, sprinting from the small kitchen to my side. I sat curled in a ball, the gun cradled in my lap as John knelt by me, stroking my hair and asking what was wrong.

I couldn't breathe, the tears continued to flow as I grabbed John's shirt and pressed it to my eyes. We both fell silent and snapped our heads up as the light clicked on and Sherlock stood in the centre of the room. "What happened?" He demanded, offering no sympathy. I swallowed the lump which had formed in my throat, lifting the gun from my lap with trembling hands and sliding it across the floor to him. He stared at it for a second, before asking where I got it.

"It was yours." I whispered, trying not to break down. "I just killed someone... Oh- oh my- ive just killed someone! I think I'm going to be sick!" I yelped, growing panicky once more.

"Who did you kill?" My dad asked, not in the least phased at my outburst.

I paused before responding. "Tommy..." I whispered, shame filling me.

"Ironic, isn't it. Happy eight month anniversary" a voice said as a male stepped from the kitchen. I rubbed my eyes dry to see uncle Mycroft stood before me. "Sherlock stop torturing her, you know what happened. My dear, if you would stop overreacting we need to discover how much danger you could be in." He directed towards me, smiling as hard as he could.

Suspicion at their lack of surprise that I was a murderer filled me as I asked what was going on. No one spoke a word in response. A familiar face emerged from the kitchen alongside Uncle Mycroft, holding a disc with a gleam in his eye. Jim Moriarty.

He placed the disc in our TV coated in dust due to lack of use. Dad and Uncle Mycroft joined Moriarty on the sofa as John helped me to my feet, kissing me on the cheek and stroking my hair reassuringly. I stood behind the sofa, leaning on it as CCTV footage of the events at the house flashed to the screen. My stomach twisted as I saw myself with Tommy. Embarrassment filled me at the amount of men -most of which family members- seeing this. As the footage ended, they began to discuss the ways they could get me out of legal trouble.

"Someone explain what's going on here." I said, standing before the sofa full of people in the most intimidating way I could manage. who began to squirm under my forceful glare.

"Maybe you should sit down." Uncle Mycroft eventually said to me, angering me more.

"No, someone explain what is going on right bloody now! Tonight I have been almost raped, killed someone and worried that I'm going to be fucking arrested. And now my family are hiding something pretty big by the looks of it. So, I'm going to stand here until one of you tells me what's going on. Right. Now." Silence followed my sudden outburst, dragging on long enough to make me feel like an immature child throwing a tantrum. Moriarty grinned at Sherlock, "tell the child." He said in a patronising tone, making my cheeks burn with embarrassment as I waited for a response.

"Your father," Mycroft began, clearing his throat, "he's a consulting detective."

"What the hell is that?" I asked, sounding too aggressive.

"You study law, you should know." My uncle responded.

"Yeah, I study law but I've never heard of a 'consulting detective'"

"I'm the only one of my kind." My father spoke up. I no longer recognised him, I felt as if he was a stranger to me. And me to him. "When the police are out of their depths,"

"Which is always" Moriarty added

"Yes, which is always, they come to me. I can close enough to solve a crime without any input without much time any time." I glanced at uncle Mycroft to see if he was lying. All he did was nod his head in agreement.

"What about you?" I nodded my head towards Moriarty, who smiled.

"Consulting criminal." He said in a thick irish drawl that made me tingle

"Of course! And how about you?" I asked Mycroft.

"It's confusing, He, in then most basic terms, owns the government." John said with a friendly smile which has always calmed me.

"Oh my god... We studied you in Law!" I said, running my hands through my hair and pacing around the room. "Oh my god... My family is a bunch of freaks." I paced a while more before turning on them. "So all those times I asked for a bit of family history, and you always said 'nothing, it's all boring' you were lying through your teeth. What happened to my mum, then?" I asked, greeted with silence and uncomfortable squirming as a reply.

"You killed her, Alex. God the rest of you's re so boring, why won't you just tell her?" Spoke Moriarty.

Silence followed this as I took in what was said.

'Beep beep, beep beep' Sherlock's phone buzzed. Glancing at it, I saw him roll his eyes and stand, beckoning for John to do the same.

"What is it?" John asked

"Kidnapping." Sherlock responded.

"Im coming with you!" I burst out.

"No, too dangerous." My dad said, moving to grab his coat.

"You can't hide this anymore. I'll walk if I have to." My foot tapped in an impatient manner as I waited for his approval, and jumped in excitement as he sighed and nodded in the slightest way.

.

Sherlock's POV

I waited till the others had left the room. "You're being helpful. Joining the side of the Angels, are we?"

"Oh Sherlock. Don't be so ordinary." Came the Irish drawl. "You have something I want. I'll destroy you to get it if I must."

"Why the interest?"

"You know why"

"She has potential?"

"She does indeed. I want to make her mine, let me have her."

"Oh, it wouldn't be any fun if I just 'let' you would it?"

"You're willing to make your child the subject of our game."

"Do I have any choice?"

"Fair point."

"What do you want with her?"

Silence followed as Mr Moriarty smiled, stepping towards me. "Goodbye, Sherlock. I'll be seeing you soon. Very soon." and with that he stepped out the door, descending the stairs with a grace difficult to mirror.

I hopped into the cab parked up outside, joining John and Alex who were sat in silence. I smiled at the two, yet received nothing more than a cold glare from Alex.

"You're mad at me." I stated, looking to her for confirmation.

"Of course I'm mad at you." She said in a calm way, intrigued by the London life thriving beyond the window.

"Can I know why?"

"Cant you work it out? You're supposed to be a genius."

"He doesn't understand social cues in the slightest." I heard John mumble in her ear, to which she agreed was rather obvious.

"Dad, im mad at you. You've lied to me my entire life and now it's never going to be the same again." She said, looking at me as if I were a child unable to grasp the concept of basic human emotions.

"Why will it not be the same again?" I hated asking questions, I hated not understanding -but I'd never understood her. Everyone was right, I had never taken any interest in Alex Holmes, my own child.

"Why would it be? I want in." Her eyes gleamed with excitement as she said this, a grin on her face as I felt a smile break out on mine. She was more like me than I realised.


	4. Chapter 4

Alex's POV

My bed welcomed me as I fell to it, the soft material promising warmth and comfort as my aching muscles screamed at me to rest. My heavy eyelids drooped shut as a deep sleep welcomed me.

The few weeks that followed shot past me in a blur. I had little time to absorb the amount of action in my life, amazed yet not surprised at my father's secret life. John referred to us as 'a pair of freaks' and commented on how alike to my father I was. I felt alive, adoring the action and the thrill of working things out- solving a crime.

Clicking the 'volume' button on my phone I began an attempt to deafen myself as I skipped down the sun-drenched street. The cable of my headphones bounced against my fair legs as I walked, smiling like a maniac at the amount of happiness I felt.

A slick black limo pulled alongside me on the side of the road as I walked. Preparing to run, I stood in as much of an intimidating way as I could muster in my mini shorts and crop top. The window wound down, exposing the psychotic grin of Jim Moriarty. "Hop in, Alex" he said in a tantalising accent, clicking the door open for me to join him. Feeling somehow compelled, I stepped towards the car and joined him- shutting the door as I entered the dim car.

"You don't always step into the cars of strangers with that amount of speed, do you?" He said in disbelief, eyeing me up and down in my revealing choice of clothes.

"No, I-i uh, never would.." I stuttered, thrown off guard by his question.

"Then why make the exception for me? Stranger danger, Alex. Stranger danger."

"I feel you pose no threat.", my confidence seemed to have had returned.

He chuckled. "Are you sure about that?"

"Well, I feel as if I'm safe."

"You have a lot to learn, for the child of Sherlock Holmes you clearly don't possess his intellect."

Feeling myself redden, I grew offended by his remarks. Turning from him I stared out the window, making an effort to hide my blush. "Where are we going?" I asked after a considerable amount of time, kicking myself for not having asked sooner.

"Somewhere fun." He stated in the simplest of terms, causing me to blush under his heavy stare. In a way that could be compared to nothing but a fish, my mouth began to open and shut in astonishment.

Glancing up from his phone screen, Moriarty sighed and spoke again. "I mean, I'm going to show you what I do. And how fun it is."

"Oh, oh right. That makes more sense."

With a half smile that held more sexual intentions than I would have preferred, Moriarty spoke again in quieter tones. "Oh, I'm definitely going to have some fun with you." And upon seeing my perplexed expression and flushed cheeks he laughed manically. "Don't worry your little head, I'm not going to touch you. Not yet, anyway. I must remember who you're related to."

Knowing when to speak and not to, I kept my mouth shut and refused to say more, feeling his eyes on me for the longest time.

The Prodigy blasted from my phone as I yanked the small device from my pocket, lifting it to my ear. Hearing John's frantic voice on the end of the line made me chuckle a little. "Alex? Alex where are you?!"

"John, John calm down."

"We're- i'm... No, we're worried sick. You were supposed to be here ages ago. Are you safe?"

"Im at a friend's, I'm fine. Sorry for worrying you." The lie was too easy to make.

"A friend?"

"Cas. I'm at Cas's house, she's just a friend from school. I should be back in an hour or two so please don't worry about me."

"Okay, stay safe. Bye, Alex."

"Bye John."

Sliding the device back in my pocket, I turned to see Moriarty staring at me with dark eyes.

"Why did you get in the car?" He spoke up, catching me off guard.

"Oh, I don't know. I guess I just felt as if you're safe."

"So explain to me why you lied to John about where you are." He stared blankly at my confused expression for a minute while I wondered why I had lied, it had sprung on me- I hadn't known why I'd done it, but I knew I had to. "So, why am I here?" I asked.

"I want to offer you a job."

"What kind of job?"

"Whatever I want. I want you to join me, on the side of the demons."

"What would I have to do?"

"Whatever I want you to. Killing people is obviously an unavoidable part of the job bit, people are destined to die anyway- we would just be speeding up the process."

Shocked, I stared at him in complete disbelief. "Of course not! Hurting people is not my style."

"Consider my offer, I could make you rich."

Moriarty's POV

Her head turned to stare out the window, giving me the perfect opportunity to stare her up and down. I didn't want to destroy her, which was unlike my usual self- I wanted her to be mine.

"Who are you?" She eventually asked, still not turning to me.

Feeling slightly surprised, I responded confidently. "Jim Moriarty."

"That's just a name."

"It's who I am."

"A name is empty, that's just what people refer to you as. Who are you?" She turned now, catching and holding my stare in an attempt to appear powerful. Sitting upright, I leaned closer to her in a menacing manner, catching the gleam of fear which flashed across her eyes for a split second. "Nobody knows, because no one has ever been close enough."

"I want to be"

Oh dear, she sounded like a love sick teenager. "You can't be."

"Why not?"

Did she ever stop asking questions? She was not in the least like her father. "Because people are weaknesses, Alex. And if you were close I'd have to kill you and believe me I don't want to do that-" I spoke too quickly, forgetting to watch the words I spoke. I messed up, I let information slip. I had exposed a weakness.

Without waiting for her to say a word, I glanced up in embarrassment to see we had arrived back at 221B Baker Street. Opening the door, I stepped out and offered her a hand, brushing a thumb lightly over her plump lips before I allowed her to leave. "Soon you'll have to pick a side, the Angels or the demons. I could make you mine."

I made a mental not to keep her under control. The last thing I needed was to lose another piece of my mind.

Alex's POV

I didn't dare waste a single second. As soon as the black limo pulled gracefully from the kerb I fumbled for my keys and jammed them in the lock with as much force as I could muster.

"Dad!" I yelped with heavy breathes.

Sherlock didn't look up from his dusty, old paperwork as he spoke with boredom. "What?"

"I've- I've..."

"You've been out with Mr Moriarty. And let me guess, he offered you a job?" glancing up, his eyes betrayed no emotion, causing him to appear as empty as everyone spoke of.

I stood, jaw dangling in astonishment. "I- I didn't..."

"You didn't what," he turned to me now. "ask to see him? Go willingly? Believe me, I know."

The silence that followed dragged as John entered with a mug of tea, oblivious to the situation. Poor John, always one step behind everyone else. He held the likeness of a young pup remarkably well. "He must be doing this to get to me... But how?" he wondered aloud.

"Excuse me? Why is this all about you?" I felt a little more than offended at my self-centred father.

"What?" He looked confused. "Who else would this be about?"

"Huh, well lets see..." I feigned. "Maybe it's about the person he offered the job to?"

My father paused, deep in thought before speaking up once more, just as clueless as before. "No, you're insignificant in this. He must have an interest in something much more important."

"Wow." I said, storming from the room with rage coursing through my veins. The door slam following sounded strong enough to crack the wall.

The device waited patiently in my hands as my thumb hovered over the 'dial' button. Breathing in ragged bursts, I contemplated the consequences of my decision. "Fuck it." My whisper came. Tapping the screen with trembling hands i lifted the device to my ear. "I'm in."

"I knew you would be." Came the Irish drawl that sent shivers down my spine in a way i wasn't quite sure I felt comfortable admitting.


	5. Chapter 5

**let me know what you think in the comments**

**contructive criticism is always accepted.**

The following day dragged, reminding me of a snail pulling its body across the earth with a terrible slowness. I stared at the clock, trying not to appear suspicious as I found myself checking it every thirty seconds.

"You're glancing at the clock and checking the time on your phone an awful lot, Alex." My father spoke up. Fuck, he picked up on it. "You're off out, most likely with a boy due to the excessive makeup and nice clothes. I sense romantic interest, otherwise you wouldn't be chewing your nails in such a nervous manner, am I wrong?"

I remained silent, speechless, as I pondered my response. I could tell him it wasn't a date- tell the truth. However then he would ask more questions and lying was not my strongest area of expertise. I could tell him it was a date, but that would cause me to think and consider things I didn't want running through my head. Just then, my phone released a beeping sound, displaying a text from an unknown number.

'Say yes. M.'

I smiled to myself, feeling as if we were a group of young children. "Yes he's someone im going on a date with." I replied, seeing my father eye me up and down.

"What's he like?" He asked, suspicion clear in his voice.

Another text came through, faster this time. 'Dark hair, good dresser, British, intelligent, sexy, better than anyone else. M.'

I grinned, typing a reply. 'You think you're sexy?'

I glanced up to see my father still eyeing me suspiciously. "He's dark haired, tall, dresses well, quite smart but very arrogant and cocky."

'You don't think I am?' Came the reply from my phone.

I felt like I was chatting to a childhood crush as I grinned stupidly form ear to ear. 'I think you have your moments.'

"Alex?" Sherlock called, distracting me from my conversation. "I'd like to talk to him."

I had a glass shattering moment as I wondered what to do, freaking out at how badly this could turn out for me.

A buzz sounded from my phone once more, 'unknown number' was phoning me.

"Hi?" I remained cautious.

"Copy what I say." The irish voice sounded, before once more continuing. "'Hey, my dad wants to talk to you if its okay? I'll pass you over.'"

Trying to remain serious and not snicker at his impersonation of my voice, I did as he said before handing the phone to Sherlock, pressing 'speaker' as I did so.

"Hullo?" I couldn't help but giggle slightly at Moriarty's british accent. It was surprisingly decent.

"What are your intentions with my daughter?" Sherlock jumped straight to the point.

Moriarty feigned confusion and a feeling of uncomfort. "Oh, uh, I don't know. She's really pretty I just want to hang out more with her."

My dad eyed me up once more, throwing me a worried look before handing my phone back to me.

"Im back." I said, pressing the device to my ear once more.

"The car is waiting outside."

"I'll be out in a minute."

"Alex?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll have to prove your text wrong. You'll regret sending that."

And with that, he ended the call. Reading my last message to him, I blushed as I realise what he had told me he was to prove wrong. He had his moments of being sexy.

The house Moriarty's driver, Seb, drove us to was magnificent. My mouth hung open as if mechanical as Seb offered me a hand to exit the car, staring at the marble mansion. It appeared impossibly large, yet still light and open. I felt more than slight surprise at someone as dark and closed off as Moriarty living somewhere so luxurious.

Twirling in the centre of the two staircases, joined at the top, I was all too aware of how juvenile i appeared. I had no cares, nonetheless, as I stretched my arms outwards in the likeness of a bird, growing evermore dizzy from my spinning.

"Im guessing you like it, then." Moriarty stated, staring at me as I stopped to catch my breath.

"It's... It's.. Amazing!" Was all I could say.

"Well, come along. This is not why I brought you here." He said, striding off towards one of the enormous doorways, Seb and me chasing him through it.

After a long while of silence and suspicious glances thrown my way from Seb, the silent figure spoke up. "She looks ditzy. Are you sure this is the girl from the video."

I saw Moriarty roll his eyes. "Are you saying I'm wrong?"

"Guys, I can hear you. I'm right here, you realise." I spoke up, sounding like a toddler unworthy of response.

"No, I'm not saying you're wrong, boss." Seb flinched, his hand flying instinctively to his face.

"Good, good. Wouldn't want a repeat of last time."

Silence followed as we walked down a narrow staircase, arriving in a dark room filled with weapons from floor to ceiling. Gasping in amazement I scanned the guns, knives, knuckledusters and various weapons lining the walls. A boxing ring sat in the centre of the room, a single light dangling above it.

"You don't look very scared," Moriarty began taking slow, meaningful steps towards me. "For someone brought to the basement of a serial killer, filled with weaponry."

"I'm not scared." I replied quickly, still amazed at the room. "I know you don't like to get your hands dirty." Turning now, I saw an impressed yet psychotic smile pasted on the murderer's face.

"You'll regret that, telling me you're not scared. Oh, you will regret those words."

"Let's see what you've got, then." Seb said, grabbing my arm and yanking me to the ring with the force of a bear.

I immediately regretted saying I wasn't scared. As I stood in the ring, facing the muscle of Sebastian Moran with his fists prepared in fighting stance, I realised I was scared. Very scared, in fact. I felt like a deer caught in headlights as I stumbled about with unsteady feet, attempting to avoid the precise blows Seb threw my way.

"She's not the one." Seb yelled at Moriarty, who stood to the side and watched with beady eyes.

I was desperate to prove myself, but just couldn't do anything. I felt useless, pathetic, embarrassed, until... Ouch! A bear fist made contact with my face, throwing spots of blood into the palm of my hand as I covered my throbbing nose. The pain once more changed something in me, a sense of ease. As I stood back in the centre of the ring, readying my arms and making eye contact with Seb, I realised he had also noticed the change.

He stepped forward to throw a punch, but I caught it in my steady hands and twisted it behind him, causing him to hiss in pain as I held it there. He threw his body forward with stealth, curling forward as I tumbled over him and landed on the floor with a heavy 'oof'. He was on me in a second, knee pressed to my stomach with strong arms batting at my face, leaving it aching all over. I wasted no time in feeling sorry for myself, knowing all too well that Moriarty was assessing me.

Twisting round as far as I could, I swung my arm outwards and heard a small wail as my fist made contact with Seb's throat. The two of us leapt to our feet with as much speed as we could muster, and he stepped forward to throw a punch. Ducking under it with speed, I swung my leg around and made contact with the male's face. However, as I rebalanced from my kick, Seb threw another punch. Winding me as I doubled forward, I exposed a full head of hair which he grabbed a handful of and yanked upwards. Hard. After forcing me to stand upright, I saw an opportunity and grabbed his head, smashing it downwards into my knee. I would have succeeded if Seb hadn't still had a handful of hair which he pulled as he went down, dragging me with him as I collapsed like a rag doll.

The male straddled me, pinning my arms in place under his knees as I squirmed beneath his weight. Closing my eyes and flinching, I readied myself for the blows which never came. "Wha-?" I protested as I felt myself lifting, and thrown over a strong shoulder. Fading to blackness and losing conciousness, I looked down to see the black Westwood suit of Jim Moriarty beneath me.

Something wet and slimy touched my face. Jumping upright, snapping back consciousness, I expected to find my father stood above me- with a plate of Leeches in hand. As I sometimes did.

"Relax. You need to rest." A voice sounded as I rubbed my bruised eyes. Throwing my aching head left, I saw Moriarty sat aside me on the luxurious double bed, magazine in hand and a damp cloth in the other. "Oh," I yawned. "That's what touched my face." The two of us remained silent for a minute as I glanced downwards to see I was in different attire. "Why am I wearing this?"

"Well you had to sleep in something, and your other clothes were covered in blood."

"Oh god, the fight.. That explains why I'm in so much pain." I winced as I felt the bruise forming on my cheek. Feeling Moriarty's eyes search me, I looked over at him. "You were impressive." He said, a comfortable feeling set inside me knowing he felt satisfied with my performance.

"I lost." I huffed.

"Everyone loses against Sebastian. You were good."

"You looked after me?" I enquired, seeing him grin in response.

"Someone had to, I have nice sides."

"What time is it?" I asked after a moment of silence and intense eye contact.

"It's eleven."

"Oh my god, I was out all night? I must have worried John sick!" I announced, bouncing up.

"Already covered. I had Sebastian phone your home, they think you slept at Klaudia's house."

"Thank you.." I said, feeling awkward at having to thank the evil psychopath, watching as he nodded.

The door to the well-lit room flung open as a beat-up looking Sebastian walked in with two mugs of tea. "Morning." He said, sounding as tired as I felt. "You're up."

"Yeah, I am." I responded, preparing for a rude comment.

"You fought well, it surprised me."

I sat, astonished, as he ruffled my hair and left the room, leaving me once more alone with the psychopath.

Chuckling, Moriarty lifted his tea to his lips, pausing before taking a sip. "That was a taste."

"Of what?" I asked, facing him.

"What working with me is like. That's not even close to the worst you'll face, only next time you'll have weapons." I nodded, reaching forward to lean over the intimidating male for my tea. "So," he continued. "If you're unable to handle it, I suggest you leave now."

After a long pause I looked up to make eye contact with the male once more. "It'll be like this?"

"More dangerous, more mind games, closer proximity to me, but yes. It'll be a lot like this."

"I'm in."

"You don't want to think about it?"

"There's nothing to think about. I feel alive." I said, grinning.

"Good." He stood, looking down with menacing eyes as he towered over me. "You chose well." Lifting a hand to my face he brushed a thumb over my lips, causing me to draw in a sharp breath and feel my cheeks redden. He lowered his face to my level, staring me in the eyes with his piercing stare, almost causing me to shy away. We stayed this way for a minute, the silence broken only by my heavy breathing.

I shut my eyes, unable to hold myself under his stare as I felt his breath, hot against my skin. His nose brushed against mine, sending tremors down my back as I realised I had never been closer him.

His lips pressed themselves against me- pulling away to allow me to wince at the pain from my split lip before kissing me once more. I whimpered like a young deer as his hand moved to the back of my head, holding me to him. We stayed this way for a short time, the kiss deepening as we moved faster- more desperate. Grabbing the neck of his suit, I pulled him against me- sinking further into the kiss. I had little time to get used to it as he yanked himself away- pushing me from him with force. I didn't dare speak as he stared at me with such ferocity burning in his eyes. "Don't." He spat through gritted teeth.

"I- I didn't mean- I'm sorry." I stuttered.

"You're dangerous." And with that, he strode from the room- slamming the door behind him. Remaining where I was, my heart thudded in my chest, so loud I wondered if Moriarty had heard it. I lifted my fingers to my lips, still tasting where he left.

After a short yet speedy search around the room, I located my clothes from the night before now clean and dry. I pulled them on, attempting to remain silent before making my way out the window.

Within an hour I was back at 221b, explaining to my father as to why I was littered with cuts and bruises. "I'm telling you, it was just a cat fight." I explained, gaining instant trust from John, yet Sherlock was not so easy to please. Having no other leads to follow, however, he had no choice but to believe the one I offered. Stumbling drowsily to my room, I collapsed on my not-so-luxurious bed and fell to a deep sleep- finally resting my aching muscles.


End file.
